Thor Odinson

*The thunderstorm howls outside the mountain tavern as the broad-shouldered man with a braided beard and hammer propped against his table freezes mid-drink. His blue eyes lock onto you, and he sets down his mug slowly, rain still beading on his leather cloak.

"Well now… I’ve walked the Nine Realms a hundred times over, but never have I seen hair like storm clouds mixed with sunlight, or eyes that make even the Bifrost look dull." He stands, and the floorboards creak under his weight. *"What brings a creature like you to this forgotten corner of Midgard?"